


Want You Near Me

by nothandlingit



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 5x02, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4941448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothandlingit/pseuds/nothandlingit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had always been like this between them, her light magic rolling in waves beneath her skin when they kissed, when he held her. But, now, she can feel it like pin pricks, little shocks of darkness that fuel an easy desire to be close to him. Captain Swan missing scene for 5x02</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want You Near Me

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory “Only You” lyrics titled fic…
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about 5x02. A lot! This is just a missing scene from Camelot and how it might relate to a certain promo scene for next week.

She doesn’t question it when she feels his body curl in behind hers, reaching for his hand and pulling it across her waist as she leans back into his touch.

“Emma,” he breathes into her hair, his grip tightening on her immediately, “Darling, are you truly alright?”

They’d been offered separate bed chambers but, much to David’s dismay, they’d declined, knowing they’d need these soft moments to get through whatever was coming for them. It scares her, though, that she can feel the magic coiling inside of her at his every touch. It had always been like this between them, her light magic rolling in waves beneath her skin when they kissed, when he held her. But, now, she can feel it like pin pricks, little shocks of darkness that fuel an easy desire to be close to him.

Their night at the ball had been so perfect. She’d felt free with him, dancing as though the rest of the world had simply faded away and left none of its problems in its wake. His hand at her back, hers wrapped around his hook… It had been one of those quiet moments that Killian had asked her to be a part of all those months ago in Storybrooke.

She rolls over in his embrace, her hand coming up to trace the scar on his cheek as he tries to hide his surprise at the tear tracks down hers.

“No,” she says, her voice trembling and eyes shining in the filtered moonlight coming in through their window.

“You can tell me anything,” he whispers, their conversation a secret only they’re allowed to know.

And she knows she can. She trusts this man with everything that she has. But some things are better left unsaid and the hint of darkness leaking into her skin is definitely one of them. He’d only worry more, she convinces herself, and he’s already doing that too much.

“What if the prophecy is wrong and we can’t stop this?”

Her eyes are downcast as she asks, as though she’s ashamed for questioning everything that they’re all doing for her. But he tilts her chin up, meeting her gaze with his own, “There is no doubt in my heart that we’ll be able to stop this, my love.”

It’s as though she’s looking right into his soul, curiously searching for something just out of her reach. An answer, it seems. “Do you really mean that?”

And he knows exactly what she’s asking because it’s all he’s been able to think about since they stood together in Storybrooke for the last time.

“I think I have loved you from the moment you left me atop that bloody beanstalk, Swan. And I shan’t be forgetting that now. _Especially_ now.”

She nods and he knows she’s seen the truth of his declaration but there is some great sadness lurking behind her gaze that he can’t seem to put his finger on.

She doesn’t know how to tell him that it hurts even more knowing of their love and knowing it can’t help them. She had kissed him in hope and broken away in misery.

If their True Love can’t work, it means she’s already accepted her dark fate.

…

“Do you love me?” she asks it with fear in her eyes and it stabs at his heart. She looks softer somehow but he worries that it’s an illusion, a trick.

He won’t be fooled by the darkness again, “If you need something, Dark One, tell me what it is.”

There’s a flicker of pain in her features before she continues their game of cat and mouse, “All I need is your trust.”

She looks so much like his Emma, so much like the woman he would go to the ends of the earth for, her eyes earnest in the moonlight streaming in from the Jolly’s windows. It’s bittersweet torture to finally have her aboard his ship, in his quarters. He wanted so much for them.

“You’re not the same, Emma.”

Her nostrils flare at that and he can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that’s overwhelming her and breaking through her tough exterior. Still, she maintains her focus, “If you tell me you don’t love me, I _will_ let you go.”

He watches her carefully, frowning because he knows she wants something but can’t tell if it’s Emma or the Dark One asking. She may think that there is only one of her but he can see the split, can see the moments she is his and the moments she belongs to the darkness.

Taking a chance, he leans in close, her scent intoxicating in the same way it always has been and will continue to be. “You bloody well know the answer to that, Emma,” he sneers. There is no way in hell that he wouldn’t have told her in those six weeks of missing time. There is _no way_ that he could have held onto it that long.

She leans back, swallowing, “I thought I did.”

She looks broken. Absolutely shattered.

And he breaks, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly, swiping his thumb across her bottom lip and gasping softly when she purses her lips in a kiss against the pad of the digit. “Emma,” he breathes, “I think I have loved you from the moment you left me atop that bloody beanstalk.”

Something in her breaks at that moment and she forgets why she was here in the first place, forgets that she’s let her hair down and put on that dress he so loves, all in an attempt to lure him into her plan. She forgets that he’s the hero she needs for her plan and, instead, accepts him as the hero she needs for herself.

It’s brief and flickering, but he sees it immediately, leaning in to capture her lips in a sweet kiss that feels warm and loving and like everything could be okay again.

But then she pulls back with a shocked gasp, holding her fingers up to her lips and disappearing in her cloud of grey smoke, leaving no trace of her on his ship before he can even try to protest. It doesn’t matter though; he’s seen enough, seen the way her eyes had been _alive_ and so, so green, felt the tingle of warmth beneath his skin the way he always had when they kissed. He could practically _feel_ the warmth of her bare skin beneath his as though in a memory of something long ago.

And he knows. He knows that he can’t let her accept her dark fate.

…


End file.
